


The Lost: Marooned

by Outgraphr



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Desert Island, F/M, Original Character(s), Other, Pokephilia, Romance, Sex, Shipwrecks, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outgraphr/pseuds/Outgraphr
Summary: A young man and the remnants of his team, an espeon and a dragonair he barely knows, are marooned when their ship is lost at sea.  Far from hope of rescue, their new home holds both plenty and danger.  What will be broken, what will be healed, and what will grow in three lives severed from everything they hold dear?





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Hello readers! This is the first section of a longer story. It stands alone, but there's not a tidy all-loose-ends-wrapped-up-and-everybody's-happy ending. It begins at one transformative event and ends at another. Spoiler alert: There are a couple thousand words of "And Then They Fucked" buried in there. No promises when or if there will be another installment, but I do love these characters. Time and inspiration permitting, their adventures aren't over. I hope you enjoy!_

The first thing Eric registered, after the pain, was the alkaline crushed-coral-and-dead-seaweed beach smell. Next came the damp, gritty pressure of wet sand against his cheek, wet clothes clinging, and an uncomfortable lump pressing up under his ribs. Sound faded in; surf and a patter of rain overlaid his own rasping breath. Everything hurt. Every breath seared his throat and lungs, every muscle ached, and a pounding headache assaulted him from the base of his skull to the backs of his eyeballs. 

He shoved at the ground, an involuntary groan escaping him as he pushed himself over to lay on his back, eyes closed against the light. The movement hurt, but no pain ground or stabbed and everything moved normally. Cool raindrops felt good on his exposed face. When he licked his lips the moisture tasted heavenly, so he let his mouth gape to catch some drops and lay still. 

Memories crept back. Charles had just relieved him on watch on the "Rowdy Growlithe." Eric had stayed around to chat and they made the trade they'd been talking about. The storm blew up from a gentle wind and rain to a force 10 gale in minutes, catching them unprepared. Alarms, and all hands working desperately to strike sail and batten down as the captain started the engines and tried to get the ship moving into the waves. A wall of water and the deck flinging itself up at him, the railing shattering as it smashed into his back, a moment of sickening disorientation, suspended in air, before slamming into the waves. Struggling to find air and flailing to keep it. Floating endlessly in blackness, clinging to debris. His feet finding purchase and a panicked, thrashing, rush toward shallower water and up a slope, desperate to put distance between himself and the waves, then nothing. 

Ignoring the spike of pain the effort drove into his skull and the deep, bruised ache across his back, Eric levered himself up to a sitting position, fists grinding into wet sand, and forced his eyes open. 

The beach was gray, white sand stained with damp and stippled by rain. The sky was dark with clouds and the rain made visibility short, but a bright area near the horizon suggested that the sun just coming up. He was a few meters from where waves lapped the sand. Left and right, the beach curved away toward the sea until the rain obscured his vision, and far behind him the beach ended in palms and clusters of dense vegetation growing up a hillside. 

Eric turned his attention to himself. Feeling around his aching head, he found a tender lump half the size of his fist but no blood. He was in his foul weather overgear, a sturdy yellow nylon jacket and pants. The right pantleg was shredded from the knee down, and his right shoe was gone. A shallow gash under his right knee was bleeding sluggishly and a livid bruise the size of his hand covered his calf. Probing what he could reach of his shoulders and lower back found aching tenderness, but no cuts or blood. He rolled to his hands and knees and stood carefully, brushing off sand and putting himself in order. 

When his right hand touched the sturdy belt case that held his team's pokeballs, he froze, breath stopped. The case was the wrong shape and the cover flapped loose. He clawed his jacket out of the way to see. The case was crushed, metal frame showing through gashes in the leather covering. The opening was distorted, gaping wider than it should, and the compartments that held his team's pokeballs were all empty. His team was lost. 

The image of his pokemon trapped at the bottom of the ocean filled his mind with a nearly physical pressure. His chest constricted, forcing a litany of denial from his throat. 

"Oh no, no, fuck, no," 

Involuntarily, he was moving. Prowling the beach, scanning for a flash of red or a shape that suggested a pokeball, clawing up gobs of wet sand. An imagined glimpse of red sent him plunging waist deep into the surf, snatching at ghosts. A wave sent him tumbling and sucked him meters out to sea, and the scramble for survival left him on hands and knees coughing up saltwater with his rational mind precariously back in control. 

Adrenaline letdown left him trembling and exhausted, world tilting beneath him and edges of his vision going dark. Numb gaze taking in the shredded beach, it occurred to Eric for the first time that this situation could kill him. He crawled to the edge of the disturbed sand and sat, forcing deep breaths. The gash under his knee trickled blood down his calf. He rested his head in his hands and tried to focus. The R.G. had been chasing rumors of a remote island, this had to be it. They had been a long way from shipping lanes, in wide open water by standard charts. If the R.G. made it, they'd find him. If not... 

"Shit." 

His jacket had ridden up uncomfortably. When he tugged it down, he felt unfamiliar lumps in the pocket. Realization hit. 

"I don't put trades in with my team until I've checked them out!" He fumbled at the zipper pull to open the pocket and withdrew two red-and-white spheres. "Kiki and Amy." He cupped the pokeballs in his palm and shielded them protectively while he inspected them. Both seemed undamaged. 

With trembling hands, Eric triggered both pokeballs. Kiki and Amy emerged simultaneously, and Eric released the breath he had been holding in an explosive rush of relief. 

"Thank goodness you two are okay." 

Kiki was an espeon, with the lanky body and dusky pink coat typical of her breed and a white snip following the ruby gem on her forehead like a comma. She emerged sitting, head swiveling and eyes dancing to take in her surroundings while her broad, tufted ears flicked in the spattering rain. At Eric's words, she rose, trilled a query, and closed the distance to bump her head affectionately against his chest, mashing her ear against him in a forceful rub. 

Amy was a dragonair, sapphire and white with a long serpentine form, well proportioned but small, almost a full meter shorter than most of her species. She appeared upright and alert, lower third of her body arranged in an 'S' for support, and oriented on Kiki from a height. When Kiki moved to Eric, Amy moved with her, sliding forward while curving her body down to the sand and lowering her head to Eric's seated height. Amy's gaze took in their surroundings, flicked across Eric, lingered briefly on his bleeding leg, then locked on his eyes. She tilted her head right, questioning. 

Eric wrapped Kiki in one-armed hug and reached out to lay a palm on Amy's long neck, relishing the contact. The espeon burrowed harder into his chest. The dragonair leaned away from the contact, brows drawing down and head tilt increasing when he didn't remove his hand. Eric drew comfort from the living warmth radiating from beneath Kiki's soft fur and Amy's finely pebbled hide until the underlying survival worry pushed back to the surface. 

With a pat to the espeon's ribs and short stroke on the dragonair's neck, he disengaged and shuffled himself backwards, turning to face the pair directly. Kiki moved to follow, but a gentle bump and muzzle gesture from Amy stopped her. Under the dragonair's steady look she seated herself on the sand and waited, eyes on Eric. Amy arranged her lower thirds in loose C around the espeon and fixed her stare on Eric again. He took a slow, deep, breath and spoke. 

"Girls, I'm afraid we're in trouble. The R.G. got caught in some heavy weather and I went overboard. I lost my team," His voice wavered and his tongue felt thick. "Everybody but you two. My case was smashed open. I don't know for sure, but I think their pokeballs sank." Kiki's eyes grew round and Amy shifted herself closer to the espeon. Eric continued, "There's a chance the R.G. didn't make it. If it went down, nobody back home knew where we were going and it'll be a long time before we're missed." Eric trailed off, dropping his eyes to the sand, out of words. 

Gentle surf and a subdued patter of rain were the only sounds on the beach. Eric was incongruously conscious of cool rainwater dripping from the close cropped hair above his neck and trickling down his back. When he looked up, Kiki was a statue, ears drooping and motionless in the pelting rain. Amy had draped her tail over the Kiki's withers, blue orbs nudging the espeon's shoulder and prehensile tail tip stroking her chest. The dragonair arced her head down, positioning herself muzzle-to-muzzle with the espeon. Her tail gave Kiki a gentle shake and she chimed a quiet inquiry. The espeon remained frozen, staring through Amy into the distance. 

Eric felt a flush of shame at the espeon's distress. He forced himself to move purposefully, pulling his shoulders back as he rolled to his knees and shuffled himself closer to Kiki and Amy. He laid a hand on Kiki's withers next to the dragonair's tail. The espeon's muscles were rigid. 

"Hey, Kiki, it'll be okay. We're in this together and we'll be alright." He patted Amy's rain slick neck with his other hand, "Right Amy?" The dragonair focused on him, paused, nodded, then nudged Kiki twice under the chin. The espeon blinked and flicked her ears. Her eyes focused on Amy and she trilled, high and uncertain. Eric's sudden hug startled a squeak from the espeon and a flinch from the dragonair, but a second later Kiki was chirring affectionately, squeezed by human and dragonair together. He held tight for a few heartbeats, then released the pair and stood. 

"Okay girls. I'm sorry for scaring you. Let's walk the shoreline, then decide what to do. The storm washed me up here. If anything else went over, we might find something." 

Kiki's hunched posture radiated stress, but she acknowledged him with a wavering trill. Amy glanced at Eric, nodded tersely, and brushed past him, heading north. The dragonair's tail, curved around behind Kiki, nudged the espeon into motion and then hovered protectively, half-encircling the smaller pokemon as they moved. When Eric didn't immediately follow, Amy glanced back, one brow arched, and jerked her head in an unmistakable "Come along!" gesture. Her forward motion didn't falter, moving at a slow walking pace and urging Kiki along. 

Eric watched Amy's retreating back, bemused, then scooped the two empty pokeballs into his pocket and strode out stiffly after the pair. A few uneven steps later, he shucked off his remaining shoe and tossed it higher on the beach. Stepping quickly to catch up, he crossed the furrow and pawprint trails to walk between Kiki and the surf. 

Walking helped. In the space of a hundred steps Kiki's shell-shocked linear trudge evolved into series of zig-zagging dashes, investigations of bits of beached seaweed interspersed with check-ins with Eric or Amy. Relieved of espeon herding duty, Amy moved purposefully forward, peering into the distance. Eric walked steadily, pains receding to dull aches, watching the beach for any sign of debris from the R.G. and stealing occasional glances at the pokemon. 

He didn't know either of them very well. Charles had signed on for the voyage on the R.G. and they struck up a friendship during long boring watches. Their shifting interests had suggested a trade, Eric's battle seasoned pokemon for Charles's travelers. Kiki, caught as a wild eevee and evolved early, had a bubbly and affectionate personality that charmed Eric from the instant they met. Amy was originally part of the "A" generation of a breeding project but was judged too small to be desirable breeding stock. She had been traded several times before being gifted to Charles after she and the espeon became inseparable. Charles admitted that Amy was "weird," but flatly refused to separate the two. Watching the dragonair's aloof, focused progress and the espeon's random ping-pong dashes Eric wondered what he'd gotten himself into. 

His musings were cut short by Amy, who stopped, raised herself to her maximum height, stared intently at something far down the beach, and belled an announcement. Kiki launched forward, spattering Eric's bare shin with wet sand and kicking up divots as she sped away down the beach. Apprehension twisted Eric's stomach. Debris meant less chance the R.G. had made it. Amy stared after the espeon, mouth slightly open, then exchanged a glance with Eric and the two started forward at a jog, human footprints and dragonair furrow bracketing the now widely spaced espeon pawprints as they hurried after her. 

Kiki was a dot in their vision when she began dancing around something, a smudge of pink brownian motion barely visible in the rain. As her companions approached, Kiki sped back to them, tagged Amy with a paw, and dashed back to her find. It was a meter long section of decorative teak railing, curved at one end, probably what that Eric had smashed through as he went overboard and clung to while he drifted. He slung it over his shoulder and carried it along. 

They halted again shortly where the beach tapered to a rocky point. Rough outcroppings and boulders teemed with minute red crabs. Kiki immediately began to chase and pester the tiny crustaceans while Amy arranged her lower body in a relaxed loop and leaned back against herself, watching. Eric left the section of railing and picked his way seaward along the boulders checking for debris, rock surface rough on his bare feet. Beyond the point, the shoreline turned west and the beach was mostly jagged rocks. 

"Amy?" Eric called back the dragonair and gestured past the point. "See if you can spot anything down there? We've come almost half a K, I'm thinking we should head back and check the other direction." 

Amy roused herself and flew out to an adjacent boulder, lifting her head high to peer down the coast. After a moment's scrutiny, she looked back to Eric and shook her head. 

Back at the beach, Kiki had cornered a larger specimen and was playing with it, happily dodging angry claw snaps while the tiny creature bubbled and fumed. She left it at Amy's insistent nudging, and the three headed back the way they had come. 

As they passed their starting point, the rain was slowing. Eric left the railing standing upright in the sand next to his discarded shoe. The rain continued to ease as they progressed south. The beach ahead curved east and narrowed, ending at a treed ridge sloping down to a point. 

The rain ceased completely and the sun emerged as they rounded the point. The beach curved along a small cove ending at a sheer cliff 200 meters distant. Eric's stomach knotted: Midway down the beach, two bright orange objects shone in the sun. Orange meant emergency gear. He broke into a run. 

Kiki and Amy both outpaced him. Kiki's triumphant dash toward the first object faltered and slowed to a hesitant slink as she recognized the second. Eric had closed enough distance to see that it was a person. Amy had taken to the air and arrived first. She landed heavily next to the figure, grasped its shoulder with her tail and peered at its face. Eric passed the frightened espeon at a sprint, dropping to his knees next to the figure. The dragonair withdrew, moving to shield Kiki from the scene. 

Eric felt for a pulse and shook the man's shoulder but he was cold and rigid, unmistakably dead. It was the captain, Phillip, in an orange life vest, sprawled on his back. Eric barely recognized him. Captain Phil was supposed to be the larger-than-life figure that had dreamed up and financed the expedition to find new species on an uncharted island, striding through the world with a bow wake of charisma flowing around his bushy white mustache. He seemed small now, body laying very flat against the sand, a sad old ruin with a sodden matt of facial hair. Eric laid his rain jacket carefully over the captain's face and turned away. 

"He's dead." His voice sounded flat and distant to him. Kiki was facing away, huddled shivering in Amy's encircling body, leaning against the dragonair's neck. Amy looked up at him and nodded. She shifted her tail aside, opening the circle around the espeon, inviting him in. Moving automatically, he stepped close and sat next to the espeon, putting his arm around her. Amy closed the circle of her body around the two, leaned her head against Kiki's and murmured to her, musical and sad. The sun warmed them. Kiki slowly stopped shaking, and Eric felt the numbness draining away and his thoughts grinding forward. He levered himself to his feet. 

"We have to keep moving. I'm afraid this means the R.G. went down." 

The second orange object was the ship's "ditch bag," a watertight duffle made of sturdy material, buoyant enough to float, kept packed and ready to be grabbed in an abandon ship situation. It normally hung in plain sight at the helm. The captain had made it clear that it wasn't to be moved unless the ship was going down. Now it lay on its side in the sand, still attached to Phillip's life jacket by a long tether, the captain's last gift to them. Eric set it upright and tugged the watertight zipper open. It was packed with supplies and survival gear, a laminated inventory sheet on top. Eric scanned the inventory. 

"This helps a lot. Which is good, because we may be stuck here for a while." He tugged the zipper closed and stood, hefting the bag by its handles. The tide was starting to come in, and the strongest waves were breaking over the captain's feet. Eric stood for a moment, shoulders hunched. His eyes lingered on his rain jacket, now a shroud for the man who hours ago had been his boss and benefactor. 

"We can't leave him here." 

They buried the captain in a shallow grave at the edge of the beach, due west of where they found him. Eric had removed the life preserver before burial, and, with a lot of guilt, had also removed the man's shoes and watch. He reasoned that both items increased his chances of survival, and that he would return them to Phil's family, if he had any, when they were rescued. It still felt like a violation. It was late afternoon when they finished. He marked the grave with fallen branches, vowing internally to make a better marker later. Grim labor finished, Eric lead them back to their starting point to make camp for the night. 

* * *

The first few days were the hardest. They slept rough the first night, fed and watered on emergency rations from the ditch bag. Bruises from the battering Eric had taken stiffened into a nearly immobilizing ache the following morning, but he forced himself to work through it. Irrational hope of rescue set them scrambling to build and feed a smoky signal fire. They patrolled the beach looking for survivors or debris. Eric called maydays on the emergency radio until the battery was nearly dead. Frequent rain and chilly nights spurred construction of a rudimentary shelter in a semicircular clearing at the edge of the treeline. On the morning of the fourth day, dwindling emergency rations set them exploring inland, searching for fresh water and food. 

The island proved to be an abundant provider. Near the northern rocky point, they discovered a trickling stream and followed it to a freshwater pool a few hundred meters inland. It was nestled against a short, sheer rock face, fed by a spring that bubbled out a few handspans above the water surface. Berries were everywhere. Hand-like pawprints at the water's edge made it clear that the pool was a water source for other inhabitants of the island. They ate and drank their fill. Eric loaded his pockets with berries and filled two collapsable canteens from the survival supplies for later, then parked himself cross-legged at the edge of the pool, back resting against the cool stone face. 

The discovery and the fresh meal had done wonders for Kiki and Amy. The espeon's exuberance was on full display as she enticed Amy to play, tagging the dragonair with her paw and dashing a semicircle around a bush to hide before dashing out to tag again... dash, tag, yip, dash, hide. After a few repetitions, Amy's eyes crinkled with amusement and her headwings perked. Timing her move with the espeon's retreat, she stretched herself over the bush to tag the Kiki from above, ruffling the espeon's fur with an explosive "Pah!" precisely as Kiki ended her dash to hide. When Kiki scrambled to retaliate, Amy flew over the bush, exchanging places with the espeon. A comedic dance ensued, with Amy arcing back and forth over the top of the bush as Kiki dashed in circles trying to catch her until Amy landed, set herself, and met the charging espeon with another explosive "Pah!" Kiki trilled victory as she tackled the dragonair, bearing the long neck down to the ground and scrambling up to plant a lick on Amy's cheek. Amy responded with a serpentine hug, squeezing Kiki until she squeaked and delivering another "Pah!" that blew the espeon's ears back before releasing her. At Eric's bark of laughter, Kiki pranced over to where he sat, tagged his shoulder with a paw, and dashed back to Amy. 

Eric watched the two play and explore the clearing while his mind wandered. There had been little time for reflection in the past several days, and watching the pokemon drew Eric's thoughts to his lost team. He fingered open his case, now mashed mostly back into shape, and hooked Kiki's pokeball out into his palm, leaving it at its reduced size. He hadn't recalled either 'mon to their pokeballs since they had been stranded. Cupping the red and white sphere carefully in his palm, he lowered his hand into the water next to him. It rested in his crooked fingers like a stone. If he released it, it would sink. With a shudder, he withdrew his hand from the pool, shook the ball dry, and replaced it in the case. 

When they returned to the camp at dusk, they found the ditch bag dragged out of the shelter, contents scattered amid an explosion of small hand-like pawprints in the damp sand. In a panic, Eric recovered the supplies and conducted a hasty inventory while Amy searched ground cover near the treeline and Kiki dashed about glaring threats into the gloom. Ultimately, the only losses were the last bag of rations, shredded, the gauze and ointment from the first aid kit, chewed to bits, and a small signal mirror, missing. Eric lugged the ditch bag with them the next day. 

* * *

After a week with no sign of air or sea traffic, Eric began to accept that rescue wasn't coming quickly. The trio's efforts shifted toward establishing themselves on the island. 

Their shelter rapidly expanded from a crude lean-to into a proper hut. The espeon's cut attack proved invaluable, and Kiki was eager to help if easily distracted. She could bring down twenty large bamboo stalks in the time Eric could cut one with the survival knife from the ditch bag. 

On one of the bamboo gathering trips, they encountered the ditch bag pillagers. Motion and noise at the edge of the bamboo caught Kiki's attention and she was off like a shot with Eric and Amy in pursuit. Eric blundered after her, yanking the ditch bag through closely spaced stalks. The unencumbered dragonair easily outpaced him. He caught up, panting, at the edge of the stand where Kiki had squared off facing a thicket. Amy held herself rigid, positioned to flank whatever the espeon had cornered. Eric fingered open his team case and hesitated, touching Kiki's pokeball. Kiki looked back at him with a trill, spoiling the effect of her exaggerated battle stance by bouncing in place. 

"Kiki! Get away from there!" Eric shouted, "We don't need to pick fights." 

The espeon's mouth dropped open at the rebuke. She slumped out of her battle pose with a huff, turned her back on the thicket, and shuffled over to Eric, kicking through the dirt in a show of annoyance. As Kiki turned away, a trio of pokemon scurried out of the thicket opposite the dragonair. They were built a bit like linoones, but smaller and tan with black beady eyes. They shot glares at Eric and Kiki, and vanished into the underbrush leaving only familiar hand-like pawprints. Kiki thumped her butt down at Eric's feet, staring at the ground. The dragonair, still alert, positioned herself between her companions and the underbrush where Kiki's objectives had vanished. Eric adjusted the ditch bag's strap to abrade a different part of his shoulder and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Kiki, you can't just go chasing after things. We're not here to battle, and there's no pokemon center if you get hurt." 

Kiki traced a circle in the dirt with her paw. Eric squatted to be closer to the espeon, hand on his knee. 

"Do you understand?" 

Kiki nodded, still tracing circles. Eric stood. 

"Good. Let's get back to the bamboo, eh?" 

With an affirmative yip, the espeon bounded into the bamboo back the way they came. 

Amy watched the espeon's retreat with corners of her eyes crinkled and mouth quirked into a smile. Eric grinned at her, shaking his head. 

"Does that 'mon take anything seriously?" 

The dragonair managed a serpentine shrug, a sideways ripple starting at the ground and ending with a brief headcock, then shook her head no, smile broadening. Eric laughed. 

"Okay, well, let's go keep an eye on our little bundle of energy." 

The dragonair dodged the companionable pat he aimed at her and slid into the bamboo, leaving Eric behind to drag the ditch bag back to their work site. 

Bamboo also provided the solution to the ditch bag problem. Eric was unwilling to leave it unattended and unsecured, but it was a bulky, heavy, shoulder-wrecking pain to lug around. Bamboo stakes pounded deep into the ground in the back corner of the hut formed a sturdy stockade-like box. A lashed bamboo lid, securely attached and weighted with large rocks made a passably secure locker. Kneeling by the completed locker, Eric set about transferring the contents of the ditch bag. Kiki nosed under his arm, inspecting each item as he moved it, and Amy positioned herself by his opposite shoulder, watching the process. Eric fished the emergency radio out of the nearly empty bag and clicked it on, peering at the display. 

"One bar left on the battery." He glanced up at Amy. "I shouldn't have used it so much the first couple of days." 

The dragonair tilted her gaze and gave a negative headshake, then a serpentine shrug. She nudged toward the radio with her chin, looked upward with an expression of exaggerated surprise, mouth an 'O' and eyes round, then looked back to Eric, brow quirked. Eric clicked the radio off. 

"Yeah, we should save it for when we see something." He tucked it carefully into the corner of the locker. Reaching over the espeon, he smoothed the now-empty ditch bag flat, folded it, and laid it into the box. "We can use this as a carrier now that it isn't packed full of stuff." As he started to close the lid, Kiki surged forward and stuffed herself into the box, curled on the folded bag. Eric laughed and lowered the lid more, earning an indignant glare from the espeon. 

"Careful, I'm gonna squash you, you'll be trapped," his voice trailed off, "in there." 

He pushed the lid open, grin fading. Eric slowly undid his belt and removed his team case, checked that the pokeballs were secure, and reached past Kiki, tucking the case in beside the radio. Refastening his belt, his elbow brushed scales and he looked right, coming nose to nose with the dragonair's stare. Amy startled and looked away, then retreated abruptly, disappearing around the shelter wall. Eric stared after her for a moment, then looked back to Kiki, curled smugly in the box. 

"What was that about?" 

The espeon met his eyes and yawned. He grasped the lid. 

"Nevermind. Game's over, out!" 

* * *

The island didn't require much of them, and as time passed with no sign of air or sea traffic, they settled into a routine. Up with the sun (thanks to Kiki's complete unwillingness to sleep once it was light and inability to comprehend that others might want to), berries for breakfast, check the signal fire material, walk the beach. South along the cove scanning the sea, then a shallow arc through the interior gathering food and firewood. A stop at their shelter to unload, then off along the beach to the northern point, where they had a wide view of the ocean. Late afternoon was a trek to the pool for water, then another gathering arc back to their shelter. An evening fire, and to sleep after darkness fell. 

Eric perched on his favorite rock, far out on the array of boulders at the northern point. His butt was going numb. The ditch bag was folded over underneath him, the emergency radio and one flare he carried a lump at the small of his back. It didn't make the rock comfortable, but he had a while before the discomfort outweighed the warmth of the sunlight on his face and enjoyment of his vantage point. He looked around, scanning the horizon and sky for any sign of ship or aircraft, then back to the pokemon. When one's only companions are intelligent but nonverbal pokemon, he mused, one tends to become an observer. Kiki had started her usual afternoon game of herding crabs. Yesterday's objective had been group the crabs, the day before it had been single crab distance, today it was crab laps around boulder. Amy was reclined on her chosen rock closer to shore, watching the espeon. Kiki's current subject broke for the waves as she harried it around the boulder. She pounced to intercept and yipped as the crab landed a successful pinch, then made a series of dashes aimed at redirecting the angry little thing into another lap. She was unsuccessful; the crab made it to the water and disappeared. The espeon smacked the offending wave with a paw, then was in motion again, nosing around the smaller rocks for a new crab. 

As usual, Amy stared. Whenever the dragonair wasn't engaged in some task of her own, she watched Kiki. Today was no exception. Amy's eyes were on Kiki as the espeon chased her latest subject, an extra-large specimen, up the beach and around the boulder. 

Eric stood and tried to rub feeling back into his butt, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was an especially warm day, and the water looked inviting. He waved to the dragonair, calling to catch her attention. 

"Hey Amy, how about some surfing?" 

Amy nodded rapidly and uncoiled from her spot, slipping into the water without a splash. Eric shouted toward shore. 

"Kiki, you in?" 

A loud yip from behind the boulder indicated that her current quarry had scored a solid pinch. Kiki popped out, trilled a negative, and disappeared again. He laughed, shaking his head. 

"Suit yourself." Eric stepped out of his shoes and kicked off the rock, executing a shallow dive into blue water. Amy surfaced as he did, waiting for him to wave her in. 

The dragonair was a puzzle. She was perfectly willing to work closely with him or even be in physical contact when they were both soothing Kiki from some upset, but outside those situations she was standoffish, staying out of reach and avoiding the kind of casual, affectionate touch that most other pokemon loved. Eric had almost despaired of bonding with her until they discovered surfing. A few days back, Eric had been watching the dragonair dive and play in the waves when it occurred to him that as a former travel-focused trainer's 'mon, she might be a surfer. He had asked, and the result had thrilled him. 

Eric dogpaddled and shook his hair out of his eyes, then waved Amy in. The dragonair's head disappeared, and a moment later he felt her back touch his feet. He crouched as she rose, lifting him out of the water. He laid a hand on her neck for balance while she set herself, back muscles rippling under his feet, and launched. 

Eric had caught a ride over water on a lapras before, and at the time the experience had excited him. Compared to Amy's surf, that had been a leisurely stroll. 

Amy's surf skimmed over the water faster than he could sprint on land, wind buffeting him around her head and spray stinging his legs. Her back muscles rippled under his feet, shifting to keep him balanced, her mastery compensating for his inexperience and making him feel instantly secure. The past few days of practice had improved his skill. Knees bent, one hand on her neck and the other extended out behind him for balance, adrenaline surging, he felt like part of a single powerful creature forging along the waves. 

Amy felt his confidence. She glanced back, corner of her eye crinkled and mouth quirked up. She banked away from shore and surged forward like she had been standing still. The acceleration nearly dumped Eric, but the dragonair's back cupped and thrust under his feet, holding him upright. He gained his balance and focused forward again just as she hit an incoming wave at full speed and launched into the air. The weightless top-of-the-rollercoaster moment that followed ripped a whoop out of Eric's chest that turned into joyous laughter as they landed with a slap, water swamping the dragonair's back to Erics ankles. She slowed to a stop, panting, and looked back at Eric, one brow raised, smiling. He dropped out of his crouch to sit straddling her now-submerged back, breathing hard and tingling with reaction. "Hell yes, that was amazing. You are amazing." He leaned forward to hug her neck... and splatted face first into the water as the dragonair dived out of reach. She surfaced a bodylength away as he spluttered into a dogpaddle. 

"Was that really necessary?" 

She cocked her head, nodded, then squirted a mouthful of water at his face and dove under him, bumping his feet as she passed. Eric though he saw a hint of a smile before the water hit. Progress. 

They practiced surfing until the sun was just above the trees on the island's crest, then the dragonair surfed them to shore. Kiki's crab game had changed rules again while Amy and Eric surfed. The espeon was napped out on a patch of warm sand next to a small pile of cracked and gnawed crab carapaces. She shrank, ashamed, when she woke to find Eric staring at the evidence of her carnage. She had mistaken his interest. Food was abundant on the island, but protein was scarce and Eric found himself salivating at the idea that the idea that the angry little crabs were edible. 

"Did they taste good?" 

It turned out that roasted crab was delicious. 

* * *

Their explorations started around week six. When the main responsibility in life is watching the open sky and sea for potential rescuers, work looks a lot like leisure and boredom becomes a problem. 

It took them over a week to explore the accessable area east of the peak, but they were unsuccessful in finding a route to the other side. The island was a volcanic remnant, rising to a high crest inland from their shelter. Past the cove, the southern shore became craggy and impassible, and a series of cliffs to the west made the climb to reach the peak more risky than Eric was comfortable with. The shoreline past the northern point, jagged though it was, was their best route to access the other side of the island. 

They started just before noon, when the tide had receded enough that a band of rocky beach was exposed. Eric picked his way carefully. The northern shoreline was more rock than sand and some of the protrusions were jagged. The ditch bag strap dug into his shoulder and the bag bounced awkwardly on his hip. In addition to the radio and flare, he had packed food, water, and supplies to allow for an overnight trip. 

Kiki dashed ahead, zigzagging through the rocks, splashing in tidepools. Earlier she had prodded a trapped jellyfish in a tiny pool and yelped at a painful sting. The dragonair hung back while Eric checked Kiki's hurt foot, then blasted the offending jellyfish out of the pool when they resumed their trek. As with most of Kiki's upsets, five minutes of limping and moaning later she had forgotten about it. 

Eric glanced back to check Amy's progress. The dragonair lagged behind, finding the smoothest path through the rocks, occasionally flying a few meters when there was no good route. Her attention was on Kiki, tracking the espeon's dashes. 

Amy was still a puzzle. Their surf practice was a joy, and in many ways it seemed that his bond with the dragonair was deepening. He and Kiki now shared equal time in the Dragonair's staring schedule, she sought his company and seemed pleased when they interacted, but apart from surf practice she had become even more avoidant of contact with him. It was frustrating and puzzling. She welcomed contact with Kiki, but now if Eric violated her personal space outside the structured confines of surf practice or some task that required proximity it caused a brisk retreat and hours of awkwardness. 

Eric's foot skidded on an algae covered rock and he stumbled to catch himself, heavy bag throwing off his balance. Kiki forged on ahead, oblivious. When he glanced back again, he caught the dragonair staring at him. She looked away quickly. 

After more than an hour of exacting hiking along the rough beach, the sheer rock wall to the left became convoluted, cutbacks crumbling to slopes of eroded soil. Kiki found their ascent, exploring nooks and scrambling up slopes until she made it to the top, where she pranced along the edge and trilled to her companions. 

Eric's view of the western slope of the island opened up as he heaved himself over the edge. An expanse of vibrant green glowing in the early afternoon sun was interrupted by sheer vertical expanses of gray-black rock. He scooted away from the ascent, fending off Kiki's excited pawtags and capturing the espeon in a hug. Amy followed, flying the last few meters and landing well away from the edge. Eric ducked out of the ditch bag strap, rubbing his shoulder, and grinned at the dragonair. 

"Hey, flying is cheating." 

The dragonair shot a smug look at Eric and flicked her tail against the ground, pelting him with grit. He retaliated with a flicked pebble that she dodged easily, swaying out of the way. Kiki barreled into the dragonair and leaned against her body, prompting Amy to wrap the espeon in a serpentine hug. 

They had emerged onto a wide, empty shelf of land, bordered by the cliff edge to the north and fading into upward-sloping vegetation inland. To the south and east, the land rose sharply toward the island's crest, and to the west the shelf curved out of sight in the distance. 

Kiki had wriggled out of the dragonair's hug and was dashing back and forth along the cliff edge, looking down. Amy raised herself to maximum height and peered inland, then relaxed into a loose coil, head laying across her body. Eric shoved the ditch bag behind his head and reclined with a groan. 

"Holy crap, that beach was murder." 

The dragonair nodded agreement. Eric checked his watch. 

"We've got four hours, max, to decide if we're staying out tonight, tide's gonna be high in eight. Let's rest a bit, eat, and get moving." 

Kiki reversed direction at the word "eat," made a beeline for Eric's prone form, hopped, and landed on his stomach. Eric's breath whooshed out. 

"Oof, damnit Kiki, what?" 

The espeon leaned forward and smacked the ditch bag, staring at Eric expectantly. He laughed and reached up to muss her ears. 

"I said let's rest first ya little monster! Now get off so I can breathe." 

Kiki huffed, indignant, but dismounted and padded over to plead her case with Amy. As Eric watched, Kiki lined herself up with the resting dragonair's snout, staring soulfully into her eyes and nudging her chin. Amy stared back, unmoved. Next, Kiki scrambled over the dragonair's body, reversed herself, and lay parallel to Amy's neck, murmuring to her and nudging sideways. Eric saw an eyeroll as the dragonair dropped her eyelids, trying to shut Kiki out. Finally, Kiki began bouncing in and out of the circle of the dragonair's body, tagging Amy's neck with a paw and emitting a yip at each landing. After a few moments of this treatment Amy heaved a sigh and reared upright, glaring down at the espeon who immediately began speeding victory laps around the dragonair, trilling happily. Eric barked laughter, levering himself upright. 

"You should have waited a little longer Amy, I wanted to see what she'd come up with next." He dragged the ditch bag forward and worked the zipper. "Let's get fed and then head up toward the peak. If we can get a little higher we can see more of the island." 

The ditch bag yielded berries and a canteen of water, then the three set out south and east, aiming for the crest of the island. A short hike brought them to the base of the nearest cliff, where they headed inland along a narrow span of level ground hugging the rock face. Vegetation was sparse and the ground sloped away sharply on the right. Loose, rocky soil made footing on the slope uncertain. Kiki took the lead, ranging ahead and scrambling up and down the slope. Eric followed, stepping cautiously and staying close to the rock face, and Amy brought up the rear, craning to keep an eye on the espeon. 

The rock face turned sharply inward toward the peak ahead. Kiki peered around the corner, dashed back to tag Eric with a paw, and launched forward with an excited trill, spraying gravel. Eric broke into a jog as the espeon disappeared around the corner, calling after her. 

"Kiki, slow down!" The narrow trail opened out into a rocky plateau enclosed by a horseshoe of cliffs, dotted with tumbled mounds of jagged rock. At the far end, a section of rock face had crumbled and vegetation struggled to claim the rocky slope. 

Halfway to the slope, Kiki had squared off in an exaggerated battle stance. Her opponent was a pinsir or a close relative, half again Kiki's height, its carapace covered with irregular red and black markings and its pincers encrusted with jagged spikes. It stood motionless near a large rocky mound, glaring at the espeon. Eric skidded to a stop. 

"Kiki, get back here right now!" 

Kiki slumped, shot Eric an open mouthed indignant glare and began to turn. 

The turn saved her. A second bug exploded from a hole in the rock mound in a blur of red and black violence. It missed the espeon's neck, striking her in the shoulder, thorny pincers clamping on withers and chest, blood welling from jagged wounds. Kiki shrieked, legs buckling. A third assailant burst from the mound and struck her hindquarters, pincers closing over the espeon's thigh, stomach, and back. The impact bowled her over. Her cries became muffled, strangled as her muzzle slammed into the rocky ground, bending her head toward her chest. 

Eric was in motion in the instant the pinsir struck Kiki. Time distorted as a rush of adrenalin hit and the world collapsed into the razor sharp image of the assailed espeon and a series of disconnected impressions. Amy's enraged challenge ringing behind him as he launched, the discarded ditch bag bouncing away, the slap of a hand-sized rock sharp against his palm, a flash of sapphire the dragonair drew even with him, a fan of blood as the first bug slashed at Kiki's neck, and impact. 

Eric hit the first bug at full speed as it reared back for another strike. The thing thrashed under him as he smashed at its face with his rock. One solid hit and it kicked him away, flipping over and lunging forward, pincers clamping on his leg. He shouted in pain as spikes ripped flesh. 

Simultaneously, Amy struck the bug clamped near the espeon's neck. The dragonair whirled at the end of her charge, tail sizzling through the air to smash down on the bugs body with an impact that shook the ground. Its grip on the espeon slackened and it lay still, cracked carapace leaking. A second blow flipped it away. At Eric's shout, the dragonair leaped toward him over the espeon, reversed in midair, and landed a whipcrack tail blow on his attacker that ripped its pincers free and sent it skidding across the rocky ground. 

Eric rolled to his feet, limping. Amy's motion carried her back over the espeon to face the last attacker as two more burst from the mound and flew at the dragonair. Amy dodged the first, but the second struck her neck and rocked her back, pincers clamping down. Eric leaped over the espeon and swung at the new threat, pointed rock striking home on the bug's eye. It released the dragonair's neck and fell to the ground convulsing. 

The bug at Kiki's hindquarters dragged her backwards toward the mound while the espeon's forelegs scrabbled at the bloody ground. Amy lurched toward it, blood streaming from punctures in her neck, tail blurring down in a blow that split the bug's carapace. Eric kicked its inert body away from Kiki and knelt to scoop the stricken espeon up in his arms. The dragonair interposed herself between him and their attackers as more streamed from the mound. Eric clutched the bloodied espeon tight to his chest and stumbled into a staggering dash back toward the trail. 

"Amy, run!" 

The dragonair leaped after him, moving sideways, guarding his retreat, tail poised in threat. 

The fight had taken twenty seconds. 

Kiki lay limp and insubstantial against Eric's chest as he ran, her blood soaking his shirt and trickling down his gashed leg to mingle with his own. He could feel her breathing, and she whimpered into his shoulder whenever he jolted her with a misstep. They had lost the track and he blundered forward, lashed by branches, until he burst out of the underbrush onto the shelf bordering the shore. They were nowhere near a safe descent. The dragonair emerged close behind him and stationed herself between him and the treeline, watching warily. There was no sound of pursuit. Eric knelt and lay Kiki gently on the ground. The espeon cried out at the motion, then lay still, eyes closed and breathing rapidly. Eric stroked an uninjured spot on her back and murmured reassurance as he examined her, stomach knotted. Her dusty pink coat was soaked with blood. Deep wounds at her chest, withers, and neck bled sluggishly. Worst was her leg and hindquarters. Her abdomen and lower back were shredded, and her left hind leg stuck out at an awkward angle. She bled freely from a jagged wound in her thigh, bright bone showing. Eric yanked his shirt off, wincing at the slap of bloodied fabric on his cheek. He tore a strip from the bottom. 

"Amy, over here please," 

The dragonair moved closer, eyes still on the forest. Eric's voice shook. 

"I have to stop this bleeding. I need you to keep her still." 

Amy nodded. She curved herself protectively around the espeon, tail stroking her back. Still facing the forest, she lowered her head over the espeon's and crooned to her, low and reassuring. Eric took a deep breath and pressed the shirt down hard against the espeon's wounded thigh. Kiki's eyes sprung wide and she wailed, arcing up against the dragonair's chin, then fell limp. Eric wrapped the makeshift dressing around Kiki's leg and tied it in place with the torn strip, then sat back, hands shaking. Kiki was shivering, eyes closed and breathing rapid, but the bleeding was significantly slowed. Eric patted Amy's neck to get her attention. 

"She's losing blood. We have to get her to her pokeball, fast. Can you get us down to the beach?" 

A moment's hesitation, then Amy nodded. Eric lifted the espeon and draped her forelegs over his shoulder, cradling her hindquarters and holding her against him. The dragonair moved to the edge and looked down, then motioned Eric over. Eric straddled her body and she rose underneath him. He felt her breathe deep, then she lurched over the edge. 

It was a sheer seven meter drop to the rocky beach and the dragonair was not a powerful flyer. Amy took the brunt of the impact to spare him and Kiki. She arched under him, leading with head and tail, body slapping the ground and chin bouncing off the sand. Eric landed safely, supported by a loop of her body, knees flexing to absorb the impact. He stepped quickly off the dragonair. 

"Amy, are you okay?" 

Amy writhed on the rocky ground struggling to breathe, wind knocked out. Managing a couple of labored breaths, she righted herself and nodded. The rocky beach stretched out ahead, a serrated obstacle course between them and Kiki's safety. Eric began to run, Amy pacing him. 

The run was a nightmare. The sun was dropping behind them and their shadows grew long ahead of them, obscuring the ground and making footing even more difficult. Eric's left foot squished in a shoe full of blood, still trickling sluggishly from the espeon and his own his wounded leg. A misstep sent him sprawling, twisting to protect Kiki and barely keeping his hold on the stricken espeon. He scrambled to his feet, scraped back oozing blood. Amy rose up beside him, flying, and nudged herself under his right arm. Her body heated and her breathing became deep and ragged, but the steadying lift she provided never faltered. The stitch in his side became an unrelenting, continuous pain as he pounded onward. Kiki was a damp ragdoll on his shoulder, taking shallow rapid breaths, head rolling limply with his motion. The sun was nearly down and his vision grey around the edges when the northern point came into view, but Eric pushed himself to run faster as soon as the terrain allowed. 

Eric stumbled into the shelter at a dead run, supported by the dragonair, and skidded to a stop on his knees. He leaned forward, cradling the espeon with shaking arms as she slid to the ground. Kiki was entirely limp, eyes closed and seeming very small, short gasping breaths the only sign of life. Amy hovered close, breathing hard, low distressed noises in her throat. Eric shoved the rocks off the locker cover, fumbled the lashings open, ripped the lid wide, and snatched his team case. He hooked Kiki's pokeball out, returning it to full size with a practiced motion. He let the case fall and turned to the espeon. 

"Okay Kiki, you're gonna be alright, return." He clicked the button. 

Nothing happened. Tears beading in his eyes and hollow nausea in his stomach. Clicking again and again, shaking the espeon's shoulder and calling her name. Kiki wasn't gasping now; she lay very flat against the bamboo floor. 

The dragonair screamed, a raw, discordant sound, and collapsed across Kiki's body. 

At the contact, the espeon's back arched and her mouth opened, breath rushing inward in a deep, raw gasp. The pokeball activated under Eric's frantic clicks, that indefinable tingle under his fingers, bathing the Kiki in a red glow and funneling back to the pokeball, carrying the stricken espeon with it. Amy's scream cut off abruptly and she lifted her head, staring at the pokeball in Eric's hand. They watched as the glow faded and it returned to its smaller form. Eric slumped, cradling Kiki's pokeball in his palm. The dragonair nudged forward, hesitantly reaching to touch. When her muzzle made contact with the pokeball she shuddered, eyes closing and tears rolling down her cheeks. Eric knew what she felt. He could feel Kiki in there, badly hurt but alive. 

"She's alive. We made it." He lowered his hand to the floor, Amy's muzzle following, neither willing to relinquish contact with Kiki's sanctuary. Eric watched tears stream down Amy's cheeks and felt them stream down his own. 

Darkness fell. Eric stroked Amy's neck absently, staring at the smudge of blood on the floor where Kiki had lain until blackness swallowed it up. His fingers brushed the scabbed punctures where the bug had grabbed Amy and his gut knotted at her flinch. His jaw clenched until he felt his teeth would crack, resolve forming in his mind. 

"No." With a fond brush of his thumb across her nose, Eric lifted Kiki's pokeball gently away from Amy, fumbling for his team case. "I'm not letting any more of my friends get hurt or lost." He put Kiki's pokeball away in the case and hooked Amy's out, then tucked the case carefully away in the locker and secured the lid. Amy had risen and was staring at him, eyes two spots of deeper shadow in the reflected moonlight. He rose, steadied himself, and stalked away from the shelter, Amy's pokeball hidden in his hand. Amy followed, belling questions. He ignored her, trudging toward the beach and heading for the northern point. She followed, puzzled. Nearly there, he stumbled and she dashed to support him, then blocked his progress, voicing her question. He showed her the pokeball. 

"I'm releasing you." 

She recoiled, shaking her head violently. He ducked around her and continued, walking faster. 

"You're as at home in the sea as on land. And as long as you're not trapped in _this_ thing," his voice dripped venom and he shook the pokeball at her, "you'll be fine." 

She moved to intercept him again and he ducked around her, gaining speed. 

"We were about twenty days out from port when the R.G. went down." He waded into the surf and climbed the first boulder. "You can make it back in maybe three or four times that." 

Amy followed, nudging her head in front of him. He shrugged past her, jumping from boulder to boulder in a rush, ending on his favorite, far from shore. The tide was in and the surf was up, crashing against the rocks. The dragonair landed in front of him and he held the pokeball up, clenched in his left fist. 

"If you can figure out how to get help back here, great, I'll try to be alive when you get back." 

Amy's tail gripped his wrist, restraining him, and she shook her head, eyes round. 

"But if you can't or I'm not, at least you'll be alive. I release you. Goodbye, Amy." 

He grabbed the ball with his right hand and flung it as hard as he could out to sea. Amy stared at him for a long moment while the waves crashed around the rock, mouth open in shock, then turned and dived into the surf. 

Eric sank down to sit on the rock and stared at the place where the dragonair had vanished. He stared for a long time, not moving, while the spray from the waves stung his face. Eventually, he rolled into a dive as big wave was coming in, swimming for shore but not really caring if he made it. 

* * *

Eric thrashed awake from a dream filled with crushing pincers, blood, and torn flesh. Frozen, heart racing, flushed with fear, he gulped cool air and struggled to orient himself. 

He was lying on the sand near the open side of the shelter, where he had simply stopped stumbling forward after sending the dragonair away. A bright moon cast a sparse, shadowed bluish light from behind the thin layer of clouds sliding past. He could hear the surf in the distance and wind rustling through the palms. 

As his waking mind began to reassert control, gaining faith that the dream was not real, he raised his head and froze again. Silhouetted against milky sky was a serpentine figure, staring at him, motionless, bright horn and wide dark eyes barely visible in the blue moonglow. 

"Amy?" 

The figure cocked its head minutely to the right and continued to stare. 

Eric wondered if he was still asleep. His throat was parched; he could barely force a raspy whisper past his lips. 

"You left. I sent you away." 

Moving abruptly, Amy slid forward. She stopped even with his knees, curve where her body met the sand a hand's breadth from his injured leg. Her lower body shifted for support as she brought her head near his wounds. 

Eric propped himself on an elbow. Thinning clouds cast brighter light until he could clearly see the smooth contours of her face in stark contrast to the jagged wounds that were the focus of her attention. He watched as her head tilted precisely from one viewpoint to another, examining the injuries closely. Seconds ticked by. Finally, Amy heaved a visible sigh and reared upright again, looking toward the hillside past the shelter. 

"Why did you..." 

Eric's voice died in his throat as Amy shot toward him like a striking snake, great head jerking to a halt inches from his face. Huge, narrowed, dark eyes under lowered brows locked with his and palpable anger radiated from Amy's normally serene face. Eric's heart pounded and his breath came short as the dragonair's fury, so close he could feel her hot breath, sank tiny talons of fear into his reptile brain. 

An eternity later Amy dropped her gaze, squeezed her eyes shut, and lifted herself upright. A deep, slow breath rocked her body slightly as she opened her eyes, expression smoothing into a blank calm. She held Eric's gaze as the end of her tail rose in a graceful arc, hovering over his chest. 

For just a moment, Eric's vision registered three globes at the end of a slender tail, outlined against the milky luminous sky, then something hard bounced off his sternum. He reflexively grabbed at it, fingers easily capturing a familiar shape. The moonlight washed its colors out to silver and grey, but it was unmistakeable. His thoughts ground into motion. 

"This is your pokeball." 

Amy nodded. 

"You recovered it from the ocean?" 

Another nod. 

"You're staying with me?" 

Amy nodded again. She held his gaze for another moment, then turned and surged away, movements unsteady. She lurched past the end of the shelter, positioned herself facing the hillside, panned her gaze once slowly back and forth, and collapsed into a disordered heap, visibly exhausted. 

Eric's jaw snapped shut. He dragged his eyes from the slumped dragonair and stared at the pokeball clutched in his fist. Shifting clouds dimmed the colors to gray and black. He propped himself up further, strained to make out Amy's shape, and called out. 

"I'm sorry." 

A tail-shaped tendril of blackness flicked in annoyance, and he was pelted with sand. 

"Thank you. I'm glad you came back." 

Amy's shadowed head rose, turned slightly toward him, nodded once, slowly, and sank back down. 

Eric stared for a moment longer, then collapsed onto the sand and closed his eyes. Exhaustion dragged him down into a now-dreamless sleep, Amy's pokeball still clutched in his hand. 

* * *

It was nearly noon when Eric woke to the sun beating down on him, Amy's pokeball still clutched in his hand. The dragonair was nowhere to be seen. His mouth was painfully dry, his head pounded, and his wounded leg throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He rolled to his knees, crawled to the shade under the shelter's roof, then lay down again. Out of the sun, the breeze cooled him rapidly. Thirst soon drove him to move. The canteens were lost with the ditch bag, so he dug the last water rations out of the locker and drank them, a swallow each, barely enough to wet his mouth. His leg felt hot, skin tight and throbbing, but the rest of him was cold. He thought about moving back into the sun, but that seemed like too much work, so he lay back down. 

He woke to the dragonair shaking his shoulder. Amy was peering down at him, lines of concern etched on her face. He pushed himself upright, propping his back against the locker. There was a fresh wound on her side and the ditch bag lay beside her, scuffed and battered but intact. 

"You went back there? Amy, that was dangerous." 

Amy nodded, nudging the ditch bag toward him. He worked the zipper and fished out a canteen, half full of water. He drained it, then grabbed the other one and half-drained it too. The water felt cool going down and suddenly he was shivering. He lay back down and was immediately unconscious. 

Things were awful and confusing for a while. He was too hot or too cold and always hurting, and the dragonair was always bugging him to drink or eat when he wasn't hungry or thirsty, then it was Clive, his serperior, and he was crying with joy because he thought Clive was lost, then he was just crying because it was just the dragonair, making him eat astringent purple things and rubbing stinging things on his leg. 

It was late afternoon when his fever broke. Eric sat up. He felt light and empty, neither hot nor cold and clearheaded. Amy reclined across the shelter from him, watching him. Near the locker were a few lumpy purple berries. Wiki, he remembered, with healing properties. 

"How long was I down?" 

The dragonair reached out with her tail and rolled three berries forward. His leg was better, traces of red around the edges of the wounds all that remained of the raging infection. He ran his hand through damp, lank hair and wrinkled his nose. He stank, sour sweat and illness. 

"I'm going down to the water to rinse off." 

The dragonair nodded. She shadowed him down to the surf, half-encircling him with her body, not touching but poised to support him. 

He slept a lot, gaining strength over the next few days. Amy watched quietly from a short distance, leaving him only to get food and water. She urged the lumpy purple berries on him, demonstrating that he should eat them and rub them on his wounds, but otherwise left him to his own devices. She quietly submitted when he treated her wounds the same way, silence between them unbroken. Between sleeps he checked the contents of the locker. Amy's pokeball was there, next to his team case. He retrieved it and the case and tucked it away next to Kiki's. The espeon's pokeball felt alive, unmistakable energy that was Kiki under his fingertips. He closed the case and secured the locker, then attacked the bloodstain on the bamboo floor, scrubbing with handfuls of sand until he was exhausted. 

Two nights after the fever broke, he built a bonfire, feeding it until flames leaped and danced, beating back the darkness and radiating comforting heat. Amy sat and watched with him, close but out of reach. As the moon rose, he retrieved Kiki's pokeball, holding it for a moment before setting it in the sand at arm's length, halfway between him and the dragonair. Her tail reached out and curled around the pokeball. He bit into a lumpy purple berry, astringent taste permeating his mouth. 

"Where did you find these?" 

The dragonair startled, surprised by the first words Eric had spoken in days. She gestured at the island's crest, pointing with her chin. Eric tore off a piece of rind and rubbed it on his wounds. 

"I knew we hadn't seen them before. Thank you, this probably saved my life." 

Amy nodded, then looked away, tail curling tighter around Kiki's pokeball. Eric stared into the flames and finished the berry slowly. 

"What's it like?" 

Amy cocked her head minutely, quizzical noise in her throat. Eric gestured at Kiki's pokeball. 

"What's it like being in there?" Amy stared blankly. Eric continued. 

"Look, I know you can't tell me easily, but its important. Kiki's in there, hurt bad. My team is at the bottom of the ocean." He tossed another stick into the fire, sending embers spiraling up. "I want to know. Are they hurting or scared?" 

The dragonair shifted to face him. She shook her head solemnly. She pointed to the pokeball between them with her tail, then raised her body high and relaxed into an orderly coil, head laying across her body. She closed her eyes, smiled, took a few deep, exaggerated breaths, then popped one eye open and raised a brow at Eric. He was watching intently. 

"So it's like sleeping?" 

The dragonair nodded, hesitated, then shook her head and gave one of her rippling shrugs. His gaze searched her face, then he nodded and turned back to the flames. 

When the fire was a bed of coals with only tiny flames dancing here and there, Eric picked up Kiki's pokeball. 

"I thought you were Clive for a while when I was feverish." 

Amy cocked her head with a questioning noise. 

"Clive was. Is. Is My serperior. He's been with me since I was eleven." He smiled. "When he was still a snivy he used to sneak me cookies when I was sick. I love that 'mon." He rose and turned toward the shelter. 

Behind him, the dragonair struggled with herself. She reached toward him, then retreated, shaking her head, jaw set, looking down, body held rigid. At the sound of his step on the bamboo decking, she broke. She dashed forward, blocking Eric's path and wrapping him in a serpentine hug, pinning his arms and leaning her head against his chest. She squeezed just long enough for Eric to react, reflexively returning the hug with his free hand, then was away, out of reach again. Eric swayed in place, balance thrown off by her sudden retreat. 

"Wow, Amy, thank you." He grinned at dragonair, who was ignoring him, busily making herself comfortable in her sleeping corner. "I don't get you at all, but thank you." He secured Kiki's pokeball in the locker, lay down on his leafy bed, and was asleep in moments. 

Curled in the corner where she and Kiki had slept, Amy stared. She stared for a long time before sleep overtook her. 

* * *

The island was still easy. It felt less friendly with Kiki gone. Their daily routine resumed, but with an undercurrent of threat that Eric hadn't felt before. He sharpened the straight end of the broken railing and carried it with him everywhere. They stayed together whenever possible, only separating when the dragonair flew to get more of the wiki berries. 

Amy's bubble of personal space became less inviolable. She stopped dodging his companionable pats and would deliver an occasional hug. As both their wounds healed she revealed a prankish streak. Walking back along the shore after their first resumed surf practice, Amy body checked Eric into the waves and dashed away, splashing at him. He was woefully overmatched in the ensuing water fight, but he did manage to dunk the dragonair a couple of times before they called truce. After that, playful shoving matches erupted daily. 

With Kiki no longer gathering crabs, Amy turned out to have a great instinct for what undersea life was choice food. Toward the end of the day, the dragonair would surface at Eric's favorite rock bearing contributions to dinner, which Eric would stow in the ditch bag. Giant abalone were his favorite, absolutely delicious roasted over the coals. 

On a clear, cool night, a thin crescent moon just above the horizon, Amy left her sleeping corner as Eric was bedding down. She hovered near his bed and chimed a barely audible request. She fidgeted, looked everywhere but at him, and began to move back to the corner before he realized what she was asking. 

"Amy." 

She stopped at his word, looking back at him, body rigid and eyes hooded. 

"Of course you can join me." He felt her dark eyed scrutiny like physical pressure as it flicked across him, then her posture relaxed. She locked eyes with him, nodded once, and slid over to his bed. 

After some shuffling, they figured out a satisfactory sleeping arrangement. Amy's head and tail snugged up on Eric's left, with a loop of her body slung across him. Something, reflex or intent, kept the dragonair from resting her full weight on him even when she slept, so she felt light as a blanket. Her warmth and solidity was comforting, and Eric slept better and woke more rested than he had been since they were stranded. 

A few nights later, giant mollusks sizzling on the coals, the ditch bag pillagers returned. Three pairs of luminous eyes appeared just outside the circle of firelight. Amy was instantly between them and Eric, tail raised in threat and vibrating with energy. One pair of eyes detached itself from the group and crept forward until firelight revealed their owner, one of the tan, beady-eyed pokemon that Kiki had challenged many weeks earlier. It was carrying a wiki berry, which it deposited just outside the dragonair's striking range. It backed away slowly. Eric moved to stand next to Amy and placed a restraining hand on her neck. 

"Come on in, we're not going to hurt you." 

The trio crept in together, the other two bearing another wiki and a berry Eric didn't recognize. They placed the berries next to the first, retreated to the edge of the firelight and waited, shooting glances at the food cooking on the fire. Eric hooked a shell out of the coals with split bamboo tongs. 

"Amy, fair trade?" 

The dragonair nodded, relaxing. Eric left the sizzling treat on the opposite side of the fire and retrieved the berries on his return. 

"That's very hot, you'll want to let it cool so you don't burn yourselves." Poised near the food, the three fidgeted and grumbled to each other in chittering voices until it was almost cool enough, then dived in. They yelped at the heat, juggled pieces that were too hot to bite, and squabbled enthusiastically, wrestling over the last juicy bits. When the shell had been scraped clean, they retreated. The leader grumbled to Amy on his way out and the dragonair belled a reply. When they had gone, Eric turned to Amy. 

"Friends? Trading partners?" 

Amy hesitated at the first and nodded to the second. 

* * *

Days passed, then weeks with no air or sea traffic to signal. Eric gradually relaxed as no marauding pinsir appeared on their side of the island. The trio of beady-eyed pokemon appeared every few days with berries to trade, becoming trusted acquaintances if not quite friends. Their slapstick squabbles were fun to watch, and their offerings frequently included something new, a welcome break in the routine, even if one particular super-spicy berry sent Eric running for water. Boredom crept in again, combatted with play and pranks instead of exploration. Amy bumped Eric into the frigid freshwater pool as he was filling a canteen and was dragged in after him. The silt from the wrestling match took hours to settle. Eric retaliated by seasoning Amy's food with slivers of fiery hot berry. The dragonair, panting, drained half a canteen and sprayed the other half in the laughing human's face. Even after loss and pain or perhaps more so, normalcy is a force of nature, drawing human and pokemon alike into its orbit. 

* * *

Eric felt himself sliding gradually into consciousness. Dream images, jumbled and confusing, thinned and drained away from his vision and his awareness of his dream body melted into his real physical form like a smoky afterimage. He was lying on his back on the decking that extended past the shelter's overhang, eyelids cracked open, looking up at the clear, dark sky. Bright milky light from a full moon angled down through the canopy, illuminating the clearing with patterns of moving light. Amy was with him, a cool breeze contrasting pleasantly with the comforting warmth of her body draped across his chest and thighs. As he floated back toward wakefulness, sound and a sensation of motion focused his attention. He cracked his eyelids and looked left. Amy's moon-dappled neck curved in a tight arc, her face turned half away from him and pressed into the leaves of their bed. Her breath came like a bellows, and he felt gentle rhythmic movements against him. Half dreaming, he watched, fascinated, as shifting patches of moonlight highlighted different features. The corner of her eye, shut tight and wrinkled, her horn pressed hard into the leaves of their bed and rocking slightly with her motions, her mouth half opened and curled into an aroused oval as her exhalations washed over him in time with the rhythmic rocking of her lower body. Her arousal called out to him, and his body was responding. He could feel himself growing hard, and rapidly, erection pressing into the fabric of his shorts near where Amy's muscular body laid across his thighs. 

The strangeness of the situation brought him fully awake and his eyes grew wide. Amy's actions clicked home like the final piece of a puzzle and an instant he understood. Amy's rigidly reserved demeanor, her avoidance of contact, the serial trades in her history, Charles' offhand comments that her background had made her "weird," even her name, shorthand for "Part of the 'A' generation." It all pointed to painfully learned restraint in a creature rejected many times for expressing her affection in this mode. 

Eric knew what he should do. He should gently but firmly disengage, explain to Amy that this wasn't appropriate, redirect her into more acceptable behavior. Behind that barrier of _should_ , pressure built. His new understanding of what Amy had been through and how deeply he could hurt her, the glow of friendship and the feeling of partnership that had grown, and a raw, hungry arousal mirroring Amy's need warred with a lifetime of conditioning telling him that allowing this to continue was wrong, deviant. 

The experience washed over him, Amy's lovely face scrunched and panting in need, the saline-and-fruit smell of her labored breath, the slight restrained rocking of her body as she thrust gently against him, and his own cock, now fully erect and throbbing in sympathetic need. 

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Amy to stop, but no words emerged. His heart pounded in a constricted chest, emotions rebelling against his rational mind and conditioning. 

Amy sensed a change and her eyes snapped open. Her body stiffened, motion stilled, her bellows breathing stopped with a gasp. Caught, eyes wide and fearful, she stretched her neck up and away, staring at Eric's open mouth, waiting for rebuke. 

Eric stared back, grieving, knowing how badly he was about to hurt the dragonair. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and opened it to speak, to crush the partner that he had come to know so well. 

And the dam burst. The bands around his chest vanished and a liquid warmth rushed upward, crashed like a wave in his head and flushed down through his body. He encircled Amy's body where it crossed his chest with his right arm and reached out to her with his left. Her look of fear changed, replaced by puzzlement and glimmer of hope. Her gaze flicked from his face to outstretched hand, and she hesitantly moved her head back within reach. Eric cupped her jawline, thumb stroking gently. "It's okay," he whispered. At his words, Amy locked eyes with him, sending a shock of desire down his spine. He held her gaze as he drew her head toward him until he could brush his lips against the delicate scales of her cheek. "I want you, too." 

The dragonair's breath rushed out in a shuddering burst of warmth across his neck and shoulder, a long "Haaa" of need, her eyes springing wide then shut as she drove her head forward. Eric's back arched and his grip tightened around her as her mouth found his collarbone, lips and tongue and heat working up to the corner of his jaw, almost unbearably intense. She moved rapidly, tail wrapping his leg possessively and body shifting, nestling between his thighs and settling herself along the centerline of his body from groin to sternum in a single powerful undulation. She rocked against him, mouth exploring his neck and chest, sending delicious spikes of pleasure radiating down his body. Released from the need for stealth, her exhalations became vocal, a rising litany of "Haa" and "Nnn," hot breath flowing over him faster and higher as she drove herself to her peak. Overwhelmed, his own arousal spiraling up with the dragonair's, Eric wrapped her in a tight embrace and rolled his hips in time with her motions until with a final thrust she clamped down on his neck and her body tensed, shuddering, rigid with pleasure. He trailed his fingers along her long neck and thrust gently against her as she rode her climax down, tension draining out of her body. 

Abruptly, her mouth left his neck and she reared above him, body perfectly still, mouth open, eyes seeking his. 

Eric looked up, captive in her vast dark eyes, time suspended as the moment stretched on. Amy moved, shifting her grip on his leg and pressing herself down on him, grinding against him rhythmically, finding his hardness answering her own damp heat through the barrier fabric, never breaking eye contact. Her tail tip hooked over the waistband of his shorts and tugged down as she continued to grind against him. Eric arched against her, heart pounding against his ribs. The dragonair cocked her head minutely right, questioning, and repeated the tug. 

A last wall crumbled as Eric nodded. He slid his hands down her long serpentine body and she lifted herself slightly to allow him access. He fumbled open the button and yanked zipper down, shaft springing free. Lifting his hips to tug his shorts down sandwiched his cock between his belly and Amy's hovering sex, sending a jolt of convulsive heat radiating from the contact. Amy moaned and bore down, forcing his hips back to the bed as she ground against him, heat and scale and slickness. Abandoning his trapped shorts, Eric's hands stroked the sides of dragonair's body where she pressed against him, girth nearly as wide as his hips, powerful muscles rippling as she moved against him. Her tail wrapped his wrist, urging his touch down and underneath, fingers grazing his own shaft as he explored her body. Her smooth, scaled skin was hot to the touch, the entire area slick with her arousal. Her sex was unlike a woman's, laying across his shaft and gaping slightly as she dragged herself slowly up and down the underside of his cock. She shifted sideways as his fingers stroked, allowing access to more of her. Eric flexed his fingers, pressing gently on the swollen edges of her opening and sliding the tip of his ring finger into her wet heat. 

Amy gasped and shuddered at the intrusion, upper body collapsing to the side as she dropped her head to Eric's ribs while her lower body continued the slow grind. She stared, wide eyed, at their intimate contact, breathing deeply. Her tail urged his hand up to her side, released his wrist, and reappeared at his groin, hooked over the root of his shaft. She raised herself while her tail pulled him gently upright, drawing the sensitive tip of his cock across her moisture slick scales. A moment of resistance as he slid past the swollen boundary of her sex and lodged in her opening, just the tip, lubricious heat dragging a groan out of him and pulling his hips involuntarily up, striving to embed himself in her. The dragonair moved up with him and rode him back down as his motion subsided, preventing deeper penetration but never releasing his tip. Her tail, still curled around his root, pressed his hips downward as her body rocked in tiny circles, working her slit around his half-embedded cockhead, watching, fascinated. Her hot breath washed over his shaft, the sensation wringing another deep groan out of him. 

Abruptly, the dragonair's breath caught and held. Amy turned to face him, searching his face. As their eyes met, she pressed down, engulfing him exquisitely slowly, eyes wide and astonished then half-lidded, mouth slightly open, not breathing as she sank down his shaft. Her heat and tightness was intense, tiny contractions rippling around him pulling him to the edge before she had halfway enveloped him. He slid his hands up her sides, then down and around her back, thrusting up into her and pulling her down, each motion drawing a gasp from the dragonair and driving him deeper until he was buried in her heat, flush against her sex. 

Fully joined, vast pokemon eyes locked with her human's, she took deep breaths as she rippled around his length, squeezing, accommodating the human cock inside her, adjusting to the new sensation of their coupling. Her tail shifted its hold on his leg, allowing her more freedom of movement, and she arched her body up, dragging her heat up his shaft until she only held the end within her, then drove down as he thrust upward, hands riding her back down, engulfing him to the root in one forceful motion. The heat and pressure were intense and he clenched his jaw against the rising sensation. They repeated the motion, finding a rhythm, slow at first, then faster, eyes locked, dragonair's breath timed with their motions and voicing her increasing arousal, human's teeth clenched, heated tightness of each plunge into her grasping depths dragging him closer to release. She lifted her as head their speed increased, elegant neck arched above him, mouth round and eyes slitted, nose nearly touching his. As her release came her eyes sprang wide, her muscular body driving down, pinning his hips against the bed, burying him impossibly deep in her. The sensation of her heated depths convulsing around him and the pure arousal on her face as she came drove him over the edge and he exploded into her, mouth dropping wide. She lunged for him, her mouth seeking his, and her musical voice sang release into his throat as he emptied himself into her, pulse after pulse adding his heat to hers. Her orgasm went on and on, long after he felt empty, gripping him, slowing but powerful, coaxing one, two final pulses before they both fell still. 

Amy collapsed on top of him, breathing hard, resting her cheek on the crook of his shoulder and staring up at him wide eyed, lips toying with his collarbone as his fingers trailed along her sides. When he moved to withdraw she made a discontented murmur, shifted her grip on his leg and pressed down on his softening member, unwilling to release him, then closed her eyes. Her breathing became deep and even, washing across his chest. The image of her peaceful face resting on his shoulder followed him down into sleep. 

* * *

_To Be Continued... Maybe?_


End file.
